


Complexus

by AdelaideGrace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelaideGrace/pseuds/AdelaideGrace
Summary: After months of devastation, Hermione is finally reunited with her lover.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Kudos: 19





	Complexus

Complexus

No one had known. It was their little secret. Their joy. Their forbidden tryst. And yet it was the foundations of her life and no one knew about it. She could not bear to think of him as gone and yet she saw the life seep out of his wound as he died in front of her, in her crimson hands, caressing the jaw that she had previously kissed. It was unfathomable to describe. Something that no lover should experience. Her heart had ripped out of her chest when she realised she was unable to save him. So many broken promises that they had spoken about. Promises of a life at the coast in a comfortable cottage with a patch of garden so that he could grow his herbs and she could grow her bluebells. Her in a sun hat whilst she prodded the soil and him watching her sun kissed locks and thanking God for their luck. Perhaps a couple of black haired, brown eyed figures running havoc, but it wasn’t meant to be.

No one had understood her grief for him in the months that followed his passing. Anyone who was in her presence for more than ten seconds knew that she wasn’t truly there, she was utterly lost. People had asked, begged her to talk to them but she would never reveal what she was thinking, what she was reliving – after all, it was their secret and it was the only living thing she had that kept her connected to him so she would keep it until the day she died herself. 

She could never tell them of the night that she had found him pitted in his own blood outside of his rooms. She would never tell them of the part of his soul that only she had seen, the vulnerable inconsolable part that she adored. She would never tell of how she had nursed him and he had thanked her through his strangling pain and how she had stroked him when he broke down like a child in her arms. She soothed him and in turn, he held her like his life depended upon it and slowly their lives did depend on each other. She would go to him after he was abused by that megalomaniac and begged him not to go again and he had told her that it must be done and it was the only way for them to get the future they so desperately craved. She could never tell them of their secret meetings when she was on the run and he was playing a part at the mad man’s right hand side. How she feared for his life, how many times had she prayed that he would be returned back to her in one piece. She could never tell them of the emptiness that followed after his death. She could hardly admit that he was truly gone. 

But then a couple of weeks after his death, she found some catharsis, though she could not tell the others. Oh no. She could not tell him of the conversations she still had with him, how he would tell her he loved her when they spoke in her room at night. They would think she were mad. If she were to tell them that she could still hear him although he was dead, they would worry and think her insane. So she didn’t tell them of his voice. It was their secret. 

Three months after, her grief was still heavy and although she could hear him, she was so desperate to feel him take her into his arms and hold her and cradle her again. So she said she was going out and ignored the anxious glances as she walked out of the door and went to the coast, where she thought she would find him.

She was sick of hearing him. Wait. No she wasn’t. But she wanted to see him. So she went to the coast and walked along the thick meadow hugging the cliff until the saw him. She knew it was him. It must be. Her heart leapt. She ran as fast her legs would take her and she stumbled on, reaching for his black figure that stood just beyond the cliff. It did dawn on her that he was walking away from her, but she wouldn't let him  
leave her this time. So she jumped.

And it was beautiful. She felt the planes of his jaw again and buried her head into the crook of his neck, hanging on for dear life whilst he cradled her. She did not feel the bitter cold waves consume her. She only felt him. Finally him.


End file.
